


Drive-by

by jennandanica



Series: Loaded [1]
Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Co-authored by Maidazia on livejournal. Karl wants Elijah. Can't have him. But wants him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drive-by

Karl tells himself there are a million reasons he should not fall for Elijah. A million. Starting with Elijah being too young and too innocent. And ending with Elijah being already involved with Orli and not having shown the slightest sign of noticing Karl beyond 'hey there' on the set. That said, there is one very good reason Karl _should_ fall for Elijah. He already has.

Karl has been watching Elijah. Watching him since the very first day they met. And he thinks he needs to stop watching. Because it's really just some wicked form of torture to which he's subjecting himself. But he can't help it. Makes excuses to stay on the set and watch Elijah filming his scenes even when his own day is over. Attends the Hobbits' house parties even though the appeal of that play-drinking-games-and-get-pissed-until-you-can't-walk-and-pass-out-on-the-floor scene palled for him years ago. And even though he feels he has more in common with Viggo and Sean and the other older actors.

Karl watches Elijah fooling around with the other hobbits. Watches Sean hovering over him protectively. Watches Dom and Billy teasing him. Sits outside the makeup trailer with Ian and Sean and Viggo watching the Hobbits and one very beautiful elf play some twisted version of tag or hide-and-seek -- he's not sure which.

He watches at the clubs as Elijah dances with Orli, their bodies closely aligned, hands touching, hips swaying, heads meeting. Close. And then closer. And Karl feels his chest tighten, his heart clench. Tells himself he should just go home. Should never have come out in the first place. Notices Dave smiling at him from across the table. And he smiles back. Dave likes him and Karl wishes he could reciprocate his feelings. But he can't. He wants Elijah. Can't have him. But wants him anyway.

At night, Karl wonders how he could possibly fall for someone who's barely spoken two words to him. He's all too aware that his infatuation is based on some bizarre relationship he's created for them in his head. But he's watched. And he thinks he's taken stock of the kind of person Elijah is. He appreciates his idiosyncrasies, his clumsiness, his laughter. Appreciates the way he makes others feel.

And he thinks he hates Orli. Hates him for having been there first. Hates him for being so beautiful. For being so free and willing to make a fool out of himself to get what he wants. But most of all he hates Orli because he doesn't understand why everyone else can't see what he sees. Doesn't understand why no one else notices that when anyone touches Elijah, Orli smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. And he doesn't know why that makes him nervous. But it does.

***

Another night, another club and Karl is still watching. But this time he's here with Viggo, Sean and Dave. And the other men are really very funny. He's having a good time. Refuses to look at Elijah and Orli on the dance floor. Only briefly glances around when they leave it. Sees them leaning against the wall, heads together, Orli turning slightly to whisper something into Elijah's ear. Watches as they both look right at him for a second before dropping their eyes.

And his heart misses a beat. Elijah and Orli. Looking at him. Absolutely positively looking at him. Not Viggo. Not Sean. Not Dave. Him. And he can't figure out why that might be. Has he been that obvious? Do they know how he feels about Elijah? He flushes as he imagines them making fun of him. Imagines them at night in bed, arms and legs entwined, teasing one another about Karl Urban's crush on Elijah. Christ.

"Are you okay?" Sean asks, placing a hand on his arm.

"Fine," he says, returning his attention to the conversation beside him. "Sorry."

"They make a beautiful couple, don't they?" Viggo observes.

"Who?" Oh. Shit. Even Viggo's caught him staring. "Yeah, they do."

"You can't help but wish them the best," Dave says, softly, his voice laced with envy. "I wish I'd felt that comfortable with my sexuality at Elijah's age."

"They're good guys," Sean adds. "They deserve each other."

The four men nod their agreement.

***

A few minutes later, their waitress, young and blonde in jeans and an all-too-revealing tank top comes to their table. Sean orders another round, Viggo declaring it his last given their shooting schedule tomorrow and everyone agrees.

Karl glances around. Sees Elijah standing by the wall, alone now, looking at Karl once again. And Karl smiles. Raises his beer in Elijah's direction. It's instinctive but a little voice says _here's your chance_. Elijah smiles back. Nods his head. And Karl feels his heart leap into his throat. Turns back to his companions, hoping they haven't noticed the exchange. But he's being stupid. What is there for them to notice? A simple acknowledgement between two people who know each other. Nothing more. Not a damned thing more, he reminds himself.

Suddenly there's shouting. Loud enough to be heard over the noise of the club. And everyone turns to see Elijah and Orli arguing. Orli gripping Elijah's arm tightly and looking really pissed. Elijah looking terribly unhappy and trying to pull his arm back. Finally, with another harsh word or two or four spat in Elijah's face, Orli stalks off towards the exit. Elijah looks around, swallows hard, obviously blinking back tears, and goes after him.

"What the hell was that about?" Dave asks.

Viggo shrugs his shoulders and downs the rest of his beer. "Who knows," he says, trying to make light. "Youth."

Sean laughs. Dave and Karl finish what's left of their drinks.

"Do you need a ride home?" Karl asks Dave, more out of courtesy than anything else.

"Thanks but Viggo's going to take me," Dave says. "I'm on his way."

And Karl can tell that Dave would like him to offer again. Would give anything to have Karl insist that he would like to be the one to take him home. And he feels bad. Because he won't. Because he wouldn't.

"Night, guys," Karl says, grabbing each of them in turn in a big bear hug. "Gotta take a piss before I head out."

Sean and Viggo walk towards the exit, Dave trailing behind them, glancing at Karl with a vaguely hurt expression on his face.

***

Outside the night air is fresh and crisp and clean. Karl takes a deep breath. He's had a couple of pints spread out over a few hours so he's good to go but he's glad he doesn't live too far away. He's just about to head for his car when he hears a sniffle. Turns to see Elijah sitting on the half-wall outside the club. Swinging his legs against the brick, head lowered, staring at the ground.

"Elijah?"

Elijah looks up, surprised. "Oh. Hi, Karl."

"Are you okay?"

Elijah looks away. "Not really. I had an argument with Orli and he left me."

"He left you?"

"He jumped in the car and took off."

"Oh," Karl says, not sure how to respond. "Can I give you a ride home?"

"Orli has my keys," Elijah says. "I have a really bad habit of misplacing them so he carries them for me whenever we go out."

And it's out before he can stop himself. "Do you want to crash at my place?"

"Can I?" Elijah says, eagerly. "I mean, that would be really great. I wasn't sure what I was going to do."

"Of course you can. Come on."

Elijah jumps down from the wall. Follows Karl to his car. Slides into the passenger seat. Starts thumbing through Karl's CDs.

"You've got horrible taste in music, Karl. No offence but don't you have anything more current than this shit?"

Karl just laughs. "It's not a good idea to insult your prospective host."

"Quite right," Elijah says, grinning. "Gee, which of these wonderful CDs should we play? I love them all so much. I just can't force myself to choose."

Karl chuckles. Punches Elijah on the arm and they end up taunting each other, showing no mercy, all the way back to his place. Which isn't very far but feels to Karl like it could be across the entire continent when it means being in the car with this boy, this man who has been a constant feature of his thoughts and dreams for months.

***

Elijah follows Karl into the house. Karl flicks a few lights on, motioning for Elijah to have a seat on the couch. He would be ashamed of the state of his house -- dirty laundry hanging over a chair, old newspapers on the coffee table -- but he's seen Orli's place and his doesn't even begin to compare.

"Would you like something to drink?" Karl offers. "I've got beer or I could make us some coffee?"

"A beer would be great," Elijah says, plucking at a thread hanging from the old quilt draped over the back of the moss green couch.

Karl goes into the kitchen, leans against the counter, practices his deep breathing technique -- something an old girlfriend taught him during a yoga phase -- while trying to keep himself from combusting at the very thought of having Elijah here in his house. Opens the fridge and grabs two bottles from the shelf. Heads back into the living room and hands one to Elijah, who's sitting there nibbling on his nails.

"I'll be right back," Karl says. Grabs a lumpy old pillow and two nubbly flannel blankets from the linen closet. "Sorry. This is the best I can do. They came with the house."

"It's fine," Elijah says. "I really appreciate this."

"So," and Karl thinks he really shouldn't ask but nothing ventured... "What were you and Orli fighting about?"

Elijah takes a swig of his beer. "Orli gets a little jealous sometimes. He thought..."

"Yes?" Karl says, prompting, heart thumping so loudly he thinks Elijah should be able to hear it.

"He thought I was looking at you."

"At me?" Karl laughs. Thump. Thump.

"Yeah," Elijah says, not laughing at all. Just looking at Karl with those huge eyes of his, taking in absolutely everything.

"Well, I should really turn in," Karl says, quickly, setting his barely-touched beer down on the coffee table. "We've got an early shoot tomorrow. Is it a feet day for you guys?"

"Nope," Elijah says. "Thank God."

"Okay. Well, then I will wake you when I get up. There's some bread for toast and cereal in the cupboard. Help yourself to whatever you can scrounge. You can grab a shower when I'm done and we'll head in when you're ready."

"Sounds good," Elijah says, already arranging himself amid the blankets on the couch.

Karl starts to walk away.

"Karl?"

Thump. "Yes?"

"Thanks again."

"No problem, mate. Have a good sleep."

***

Karl is falling asleep. He's almost there when a rush of frigid air hits his back, the bed presses down and a cool hand slides around his waist, caressing his stomach. And he jolts. Wide awake.

"Elijah?" he asks.

"Yeah," Elijah says, curling himself against Karl's back, moving his hand up and down Karl's chest.

"What are you doing?"

"I would've thought that was obvious."

Karl turns over. In the moonlight filtering through the blinds, he can just barely make out Elijah's features.

"What about Orli?" he asks.

"Orli was right," Elijah says. "I was watching you. I've been watching you for weeks."

"But I thought you were together," Karl says, still struggling to make sense of why he's even questioning this.

"We are. We were," Elijah says. "I don't know. I can't take his jealousy. He hurts me sometimes."

"What?" Karl says. "He--"

"Shhh," Elijah says, placing a finger over Karl's lips. "I want to kiss you."

And their lips are suddenly touching. Elijah's hand on the back of Karl's neck, pulling him closer. His tongue insistent against Karl's mouth. Karl opens. Lets him in. And Elijah, sweet Elijah, ravages his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, bruising his lips.

Elijah's hand is on his cock, stroking him through his pajama bottoms. And Karl thinks he might just lose it right now. Right this very moment. Puts a hand out to push Elijah back and -oh- realizes he's naked. Realizes that he has a completely naked obviously not-so-innocent Elijah fisting his cock. And he shudders, groans low in his chest.

Elijah pulls back. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." It's a struggle to speak. "I just..." Oh what the hell. "I've wanted this for so long. Been dreaming of it, of you, for ages."

"Really?" Elijah asks, happiness evident in his voice.

"Yes."

"Me too." Slides down under the covers, pulling Karl's pants off as he goes before straddling Karl's legs and taking his cock into his mouth.

And Karl is grabbing at the sheets with his hands, wadding them into his fists. Trying to hold on, trying to wait, trying not to lose

-oh god- sweet jesus -oh-

and he comes, spilling into Elijah's mouth, down his throat.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Elijah," he says, hurriedly. "It was just--"

"Shhh," Elijah says once again. "It's okay."

"But you--"

"Do you have anything?" Karl struggles to make sense of the words.

"In the table," he says, finally getting it. Reaches over to grab a condom and lube from the nightstand.

Elijah takes them from him. Flips open the tube and slicks his fingers. And Karl's surprised. Doesn't know what he thought when Elijah asked but didn't expect that Elijah would top. But it seems to be a night for surprises. And Karl? He can go either way. Lays back on the bed, spreading his legs wide, offering himself up to the younger man.

Elijah slides one well-lubed finger into Karl. And Karl moans. -oh god- It feels so good. A second finger joins the first, curving and brushing across that oh-so-sweet spot that threatens to send him right through the roof, making his cock twitch. He forces himself to breathe and relax, accepting a third, welcoming the intrusion, enjoying the sensation of Elijah's fingers pushing into him again and again. And he can't wait.

"I need you," he says.

"What do you need?" Elijah says and even in the darkness, Karl can feel him smile.

So this is what Elijah likes. "I need you. Inside me."

"Tell me," Elijah urges.

"I need you to fuck me," Karl says, the same darkness covering his embarrassment at the words coming from his lips.

"Tell me more," Elijah urges once again, still stroking across Karl's prostate. Dipping in and out of his body. Stroking and stroking. Making Karl wild with desire.

"Fuck me, Elijah," Karl demands. "Please fuck me."

And that does it. Elijah quickly slides the condom onto his cock with one hand, moves up, pinning Karl's legs under his arms, nudging against Karl and then he's slipping inside. And Karl gasps. Another surprise. Sweet little Elijah is neither so sweet nor so little.

And Elijah's kissing him again. Swirling his tongue around Karl's, possessing his mouth as fully as he is possessing his body. Timing each thrust of his tongue with each thrust of his cock. Moving Karl's legs to his shoulders so he can go deeper, harder, faster. Hand between them, stroking Karl's cock to hardness. And Karl's shaking. Can't believe this is happening. Wonders if he maybe he really is dreaming. But no.

"Oh, God, Karl," Elijah croons into his ear. "So tight. So hot. Oh. So good."

And Karl comes, spurting hot and hard against Elijah's stomach. Elijah groans. Thrusts deep. And again. Cries out, coming into Karl.

He slowly and carefully lets Karl's legs down, pulling out just as gently, knotting and tossing the condom in the general direction of the wastebasket beside the bed. Lays down beside Karl, arm across his waist, head tucked against his shoulder.

"That was amazing," Elijah says.

"Yeah, it was," Karl replies, wanting to hold on to this so badly. In case it never happens again. In case it is just a dream.

"It's late," Elijah says. "We'd better get some sleep."

Elijah turns and Karl turns with him, the two men spooning against each other. "Night, Elijah."

"Night."

***

When Karl wakes in the morning, Elijah is gone, the house filled with silence. He lays there in the tangle of sheets, rubbing his eyes. Thinks maybe it was just a dream. A fantastic mind-blowing dream so real he can still taste Elijah - cloves and beer and something else all his own - on the back of his tongue every time he takes a breath.

He glances once more at the empty pillow beside him, exhales softly and heads for the shower.

***

Eomer and Frodo don't have a single scene together and they're filming with different crews so Karl is forced to wait until late that evening before he finally catches a glimpse of Elijah. When he does see him, his stomach clenches into a tight knot. Elijah's leaning against Orli, the two of them snug up against the outside of the makeup trailer. Orli's eyes connect with Karl's, a glimmer of something Karl can't quite identify dancing in them. Orli holds Karl's gaze, lowering his head to whisper something in Elijah's ear. Curves his arm more tightly around the younger man's neck and smiles. "Hey, Karl." Almost a purr.

Karl forces a tight smile, glances down as Elijah's body turns in Orli's arms, never breaking contact, shoulder to hip. Karl looks at his face, needing to see Elijah's expression. For a moment he's hidden by Orli's hand where his fingers are tracing along Elijah's cheek. Then blue eyes blink lazily and his lips curve in a coy grin. He ducks his head into Orli's neck. And Karl thinks he's going to be sick. Stumbles away.

***

Karl stops watching Elijah. Or at least he tries. He stops hanging around the set when his scenes are over. No longer attends the Hobbit house parties.

But he can't stop watching Elijah completely. Can't stop hanging out with everyone else. Can't stand the silence of his house at night. So he still hits the bars and the clubs with the rest of the cast -- drinking and laughing -- and it's on those nights that he can't stop watching Elijah.

At first he forgets to be discreet. It's only when Sean asks him why he's staring at Elijah like he's dinner that he realizes he needs to pull back a little.

He still watches Elijah. But it's different now. Now Elijah's watching him too. And Elijah looks at him the way Karl imagines Elijah was looking at him the night he fucked him senseless, his features hidden by the darkness. And even Elijah looking at him _like that_ is enough to make him so hard that his whole body aches for release. So he stops watching Elijah.

Starts watching Orli. And Orli watches right back. Orli stares at him, the challenge clear in his eyes, baiting him. Making Karl hate him even more.

And Karl stops watching. Stops going out altogether when he knows Elijah and Orli are going to be there.

But it's useless. Karl's stopped watching and Elijah's started calling. Elijah's voice on his machine, taunting him, torturing him, telling him how badly he wants to be inside him. Describing in short, whispered, panting breaths, exactly what he wants to do to Karl the _next time_.

And Karl spends too many of his nights alone, roughly stroking himself while Elijah's messages play softly in the background, aching for the promise of _next time_.

***

Karl pushes through the crowd of people causing a bottleneck at the back hallway of the pub. He pushes into the empty men's room and into the silence. The conversation at the table was starting to get a little loud what with all the pints the Men had been consuming this evening. He steps forward, unbuttons his fly and relaxes for a moment. Leans his head back just a little and closes his eyes, testing his own sobriety. Just a minor spin, nothing to worry about.

He's been pacing himself this evening for a change, having noticed that he's been consuming more alcohol than usual whenever there's a group night out. Having noticed that his level of intoxication of late has been in direct correlation to his proximity to Elijah. Elijah and his constant companion Orli. He pulls his mind back from that renegade thought, straightens up, tucks himself back into his jeans. Avoiding Elijah won't be an issue this evening. Only the adults have come out to play tonight.

The door behind him shushes open, catching his attention. His fingers pause on the second button from the top.

Elijah.

Karl feels the blood rushing to his face, among other places, betraying him. "Fuck."

Elijah tilts his head, something that might be hurt passing over his face for an instant. "I thought you'd be happy to see me. But it doesn't sound like it." The words are innocent enough and reinforced by the hint of a pout pulling at Elijah's bottom lip but the effect is ruined by the all-too-wicked glimmer in his eyes as they move down Karl's body.

Instinctively Karl steps back, his pulse fluttering in his throat. As Elijah edges closer, he continues to retreat. Elijah reaches out, backing Karl up against the wall beside the urinals, resting his fingertips lightly on the backs of Karl's hands, which are still on his fly.

"Elijah..." He hears the desperation in his voice and stops. Swallows. He shouldn't feel threatened by this boy. And he's not. Feeling threatened exactly. But his chest feels tight with need and he's having trouble sorting out exactly how he feels. It's been three weeks since the last time he felt Elijah's skin on his and the thought of feeling it again takes his breath away. He clears his throat. "Elijah. What do you think you're doing?"

The younger man gives him a quizzical look, almost comical in its innocence. "What do you think I'm doing?"

Karl tries again, not wanting to play word games, fighting to control his sudden urge to just grab Elijah and thrust him up against the wall and--

And his mouth is suddenly oh-so-dry as Elijah moves his hands, trailing over Karl's wrists, coming to rest at the top of his thighs. As he digs in the tips of his fingers slightly, ragged nails stuttering along the heavy fabric.

Karl shudders at the light touch. "Elijah..."

"Shhh..." He leans closer, his lips almost touching Karl's neck. "You want to know what I'm doing?" He moves his hands again, not far, just closer to the centre of Karl's body. "I thought I could have you once and walk away." His fingers move perilously close to the open buttons. "But I was wrong. Once wasn't enough. Won't ever be enough." He runs his thumb just inside the flap of denim. "Do you know I dream about you? You haunt me." His voice is soft, almost conversational. "You haunt me because I know that it's wrong, that I shouldn't do this." His breath grazes Karl's skin. "But I can't help myself. I need you." Elijah closes the distance between his lips and the exposed flesh of Karl's throat just as his cool fingers make contact with heated skin.

Karl gasps, his body responding. Flashes to Elijah moving above him, inside him, and he realizes his eyes have slipped closed. Forces them open, grasping Elijah's hands in his and pushes back. "Elijah. We can't."

Elijah meets his eyes, seeming genuinely confused. And disappointed. And oh-so-beautiful.

Karl steels himself, grips both of Elijah's narrow wrists in one hand, squeezes gently. "What about Orli?"

"Yes, what about Orli?"

Elijah spins around. Karl releases his hands, looking over Elijah's shoulder in surprise.

Orli lounges in the doorway, his eyes unreadable.

Karl doesn't know what to say. Too late he realizes he's still exposed, reaches quickly to button his fly. He glances back up, catches Orli staring at his hands. Orli looks at Karl, looks at Elijah and back again, obviously irritated at what he sees.

Elijah glances back at Karl, his expression a strange mixture of embarrassment and defiance.

"Elijah." One word.

Elijah takes a step towards Orli. Looks back one last time, meeting Karl's eyes. He shrugs and follows Orli out of the room.

The door shushes shut behind them.

Karl leans back against the wall, drags his hands through his hair. Shakes his head.

"Motherfucker."

***

_I'm a fucking idiot._

The thought has been roaming around his head in various permutations for the last two hours.

Karl lays on the couch in the dark, staring at the ceiling. He's tried to sleep but every time he closes his eyes, he can feel Elijah's fingers on his skin, Elijah's breath on his neck.

And it's driving him crazy.

So he's laying here in the dark, berating himself, repeating the same phrase over and over in his head, using it as a shield against the memories of Elijah. The memories of Elijah touching him. The memories of Elijah fucking him.

The phone rings, a shrill echo through the room. He jumps, turning his head in the direction of the noise and notices the lit numbers on the VCR. 2:43 a.m. Christ.

Karl returns his attention to the ceiling. He's not going to answer. It can't be anything good. Not at this hour. Goes back to his mantra and eventually the ringing stops.

He begins to relax again and is jolted back by a knock at the front door.

Karl sits up slowly, turning in the dark towards the door, chest tightening. He knows who it is. Who else would it be at this hour?

He slides off the couch, moves to the door. Leans his head against the wood for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. Turns the handle.

Elijah.

Elijah looking like he's just been dragged through the gutter. Face down. Reeking of alcohol.

Karl stares at him silently, taking in his dishevelled appearance. Elijah looks up, meets Karl's gaze, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen. He's wearing only a thin t-shirt and wrinkled jeans against the chill night air, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

"Christ Elijah, what the hell happened to you?" He steps back, drawing the boy inside without even realising he's moving. Propels him towards the couch, Elijah slumping down on it as Karl reaches to turn on the light.

He turns back to Elijah, huddled on the couch. Slides the newspapers off the coffee table and perches in front of him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Elijah still doesn't speak. His eyes flick up, meet Karl's for a second then flick away again, filling with tears.

Well hell. Karl drops to his knees in front of the couch and slides his arms around Elijah, pulling him tight to his chest. For all the tormenting bastard he can be, Karl can't stand to see him upset like this.

For a moment Elijah doesn't respond. Then, slowly, he drops his head to Karl's shoulder and wraps his arms around the older man's neck. He shudders slightly. Karl moves one hand up to rest on the back of Elijah's neck, fingers moving gently. "Shhh. It's alright."

Elijah makes a small sound, moves his head, tucking his face deeper into Karl's neck.

And Karl stiffens, fighting his body's response to Elijah's damp warm puffs of breath against his skin. He can smell the beer, even stronger now. Knows Elijah's been drinking. He pulls away, slides back onto the coffee table, clasping his hands together between his knees.

Elijah straightens, rubbing at his reddened eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't come here to cry all over you."

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Elijah gives a half-hearted laugh. "Orli was a little pissed off about earlier."

_Earlier._ Christ.

"He threw me out."

This is starting to sound familiar. Too familiar. Karl crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Elijah suspiciously. "So you decided to come here and what?"

Elijah has the grace to look embarrassed. "I don't know why I came here. I just... I needed somewhere to go."

Karl stands up. "We're not doing this again, Elijah."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll just go." He uncurls himself from the couch, moves to stand.

Karl puts out a hand to stop him. Kneels down again, gently grasping Elijah's wrist.

Elijah tries to tug his arm back, but Karl's already seen the bruise covering Elijah's bicep from elbow to shoulder.

"What the hell?"

Elijah shrugs and Karl notices the matching bruise on his other arm. He moves his own hands, lightly covering both marks. Smaller than his hands but their shape leaves no other explanation. Elijah winces away from his touch and he pulls back.

"Did Orlando do this?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"I told you he was pissed off."

"And he grabbed you."

"More like shook." Elijah murmurs to himself, soft and low.

Karl can feel the anger building inside his chest.

"Did he do anything else? Hurt you anywhere else?"

Elijah shakes his head, avoiding Karl's gaze.

"What do you want me to do? I can call the police or I can talk to Orli."

Elijah looks up, eyes wide with panic. "Nothing! Please. Don't do anything. Don't say anything to anyone."

"Elijah--"

"Please..." He puts his hand on Karl's. "It's okay. He threw me out, remember? It'll be okay. I'm not going back."

Karl takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. When he opens them again Elijah is still staring at him, that helpless pleading look on his face. The anger drains out of him. He'll take care of Orli later. For now he'll worry about Elijah. "Where are you going to go then?"

Elijah looks down at the floor. "I'll just..." He pauses, looking back at Karl. "I'll find somewhere."

Damn it. Karl stands abruptly, begins to pace the length of the room. He can't let Elijah stay with him. Just can't. Can't trust himself to do the right thing with Elijah here in his house. Stops and turns to tell Elijah it can't work.

But Elijah speaks first. "I'm going." He stands up, moving towards the door. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry."

"Elijah. Don't."

Elijah stops. Doesn't turn around.

"You can stay here." It's not what he meant to say. But he's said it. Doesn't think he can take it back now. However... "You can stay here. But you stay _out here_. It's been a long night for both of us and I'm not up to playing any more of your little games."

_And I'll tie you down if that's what it takes to keep you out here._ Which is so definitely the wrong direction for his thoughts to be taking.

"Out here. I mean it."

***

Back in his bedroom, Karl grabs a pair of pajama bottoms from the dresser, throwing them onto the bed. He thinks of Elijah in the living room, naked on his couch. Christ. Adjusts himself through suddenly too-tight jeans, struggling to banish the thought of Elijah naked _anywhere_ from his mind. Unbuttons his shirt and tosses it in the hamper beside the dresser. Turns around to find Elijah standing in the doorway with only a blanket wrapped around him. Shit.

"What can I do for you, Elijah?" And he thinks his voice should sound firmer, more in command.

Elijah takes a step into the room. "Do you have anything I can wear? Sleeping in my jeans isn't very comfortable and I thought you might prefer not finding me naked on your couch in the morning."

Karl picks up the pajama bottoms from the bed, offering them to Elijah. "They're too long but you can roll them up." And it crosses his mind that he just might end up sleeping with them like some stupid teenage girl when he's gone.

Elijah takes them from his hand. "Yeah. Thanks." Making no move to leave.

"What?" Karl asks, trying for impatience but worried his voice only betrays his nervousness.

"I've missed you," Elijah says, biting his bottom lip in that disarming way of his.

"I told you," Karl says, firmly this time. "Don't do this." Amending his words to a plea in his mind. _Please_ don't do this. _I really don't think I have the strength to resist you._

"Don't do what?" Elijah asks, looking at Karl in a way that threatens to have him on his knees in seconds. "Tell you that I've missed you. That I've spent hours thinking of you. That when I'm with Orli, I imagine I'm with you."

"Stop it," Karl orders. They are not going to do this. He will not do this. Not again.

"Stop what?" Elijah asks, stepping closer. "I'm not doing anything." He pauses. "Not yet."

And Karl closes his eyes. Just for a minute. Just trying to get a grip on things. Opens them to find Elijah standing right before him. Christ.

Elijah moves closer, dropping the blanket and pajamas to the floor. Presses his body against Karl's. Cups Karl's head in his hands, pulling him down to his mouth. Kisses him deeply. Pulls back and smiles. Traces his tongue over Karl's lips. Pushes against them, seeking entrance.

But Karl steps back.

"I don't want this," he says, softly. And he's lying. He does want this. Would beg for this if he could have Elijah the way he wants. But he can't and so it's better not to have Elijah at all.

Elijah moves closer again. Cups Karl's hardness in his hand. "Could have fooled me."

"Stop it," Karl says, twisting out of reach.

But Elijah follows him, drawing Karl's body to him once again. Kisses him deeply. His tongue fierce and insistent. His hands grasping Karl's arse through the denim, grinding their cocks together. And Karl stops fighting. Surrenders. Opens. Lets Elijah fuck his mouth, tasting the alcohol on his tongue.

Elijah steps back, making sure Karl's watching before slipping two fingers into his own mouth, sucking them, coating them with saliva. Moves against Karl again, sliding his hand around Karl's back and under the waistband of his jeans, using the other hand to unfasten the buttons and shove them down. Firmly circles the puckered entrance to Karl's body before pushing one finger deep inside him. Karl bucks against him. Groans. Elijah slips the other finger in beside the first and Karl rocks his hips against Elijah's hand, pressing back for more.

And then suddenly, Elijah's pulled out and Karl's on the bed, Elijah having hooked one leg under his and thrown him down. Lips smiling, eyes blazing, Elijah yanks Karl's jeans down and off, quickly -- _fuck he's strong_ \-- flipping him over onto his stomach and straddling the top of his legs, leaning down against him, mouth pressed to his ear.

"I'm going to fuck you, Karl," Elijah says, almost purring. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll come screaming my name, still begging for more."

His words have Karl hard. Harder than he's ever been. And he thinks he really should stop this. Shouldn't want this. But he does. He wants this so very badly. But still...

"Elijah, stop," he says, feeling the need to offer some token resistance.

"I don't think so," Elijah responds. Shoves his fingers deep into Karl's body and Karl groans again, his body clenching, his hips moving, moving against Elijah's hand, willing him to push deeper.

"Elijah, I mean it, stop," he says, huskily, both his voice and his body's response branding him a liar.

"Nope," teases Elijah. He can hear the foil tearing and the rubber slicking onto flesh. And then Elijah's lining up and shoving into him with one powerful thrust.

-oh God-

Karl bucks back hard against Elijah. "Fuck me," he pleads.

And Elijah slams his hand down on Karl's head, pinning him to the pillow, shoving his cock deep into his arse. Over and over again. And it's all so rough, so nasty, so dirty. Karl shudders. Spreads his legs wider. Buries his head in the pillow, hoping to hide his humiliation, hide the fact that this is turning him on more than anything he has ever experienced.

Elijah pulls him up onto his knees, pushes his head back down against the pillow, grips Karl's hips in his hands and renews the brutal rhythm he'd abandoned only a moment before. And Karl wonders at how Elijah seems to know instinctively what he wants, what he needs.

"Oh, God, Karl. You are so fucking tight," Elijah croons.

Karl blushes, tries to turn his face away.

"Don't do that," Elijah says, smacking him. "I want to look at you. I want to see your face while I'm fucking you. Come on, Karl. Give it to me."

"Make me," Karl insists, arching his back, playing at unseating Elijah, wanting to make him do something - anything - that will relieve the unbelievable ache that's spread from his cock to his entire body.

"If that's the way you want it," Elijah growls, forcing his head down with his hand. "You're going to take my cock like a good boy. You're going to spread your legs and take it. Take my fucking cock. That's right. Again. And again. And again." Punctuating every other word with a thrust so deep Karl can almost taste it. Striking that spot that makes Karl shudder with each punishing stroke.

And Karl comes, screams out his name, just as Elijah said he would, still wants more, abandons himself to the experience, the sensation, the feel of Elijah riding him without mercy.

He has no idea how long it is before Elijah cries out and comes into him, spilling his load deep within his body. He's been aware of nothing aside from Elijah filling him. Again and again. Ramming into him. Possessing him. Trying so very hard to mesh his body with Karl's.

And Elijah collapses against Karl. Kisses the back of his neck and along his shoulders, holding him tight. Both of them struggling to regain their breath. Both of them hesitant to let the other one go.

"God, that was good," Elijah slurs against Karl's neck, finally pulling out, his cock softening. He moves to Karl's side, running a gentle hand down his back. And it's just a whisper as his head hits the pillow. "I knew if I came here this would happen."


End file.
